


Golden light

by Beleriandings



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Fluff, Kisses, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2015-06-14
Packaged: 2018-04-04 08:53:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4131613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beleriandings/pseuds/Beleriandings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two young nobles of Tirion muse on what sort of behaviour is inappropriate in view of the Mindon Eldaliéva.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Golden light

**Author's Note:**

> Based on my headcanon that Glorfindel is Elenwë's brother (he came with her to Tirion when she married Turgon and met Ecthelion then) but that's not really essential to this.

The two of them sat on the terrace that surrounded the Mindon Eldaliéva, perched upon the parapet, their legs swinging over the edge. They were bathed in light, both from the lamp high above and from Laurelin, hot on their faces in the fullness of its daily blooming.

“We shouldn’t stay here” said Laurefindil, squinting about them nervously. 

Ethelë opened one eye from where he was resting with his head against Laurefindil’s shoulder in the drowsy afternoon heat, his heavy dark hair mingling with Laurefindil’s gold upon their shoulders. “Why not?”

“I don’t think we’re meant to just… lounge around such a place. Isn’t it supposed to be held in reverence?”

“You pious Vanya, you.” Ethelë sat up and grinned at him. “Talk about fulfilling the stereotype. I thought I’d managed to get some of the properness out of you. Besides, it  _was_  Ingwë’s tower, before he upped and left this city. But it’s been given over to the citizens of Tirion now, which means, in my book, that we’re allowed to lounge around and enjoy the Light all we like.” He picked up the tunic he had taken off earlier in the heat, and swatted Laurefindil gently with it. “Don’t you agree?”

Laurefindil shook his head in amusement, trying not to stare too hard at the bare skin of Ethelë’s chest, the play of muscle beneath. “You may call me proper and pious, but really I’m only interested in you keeping your good name at court. What would they think if they saw one of the sons of the lords of king Finwë’s court - and aspiring herald, no less, and a soon-to-be full member of the musicians’ guild - half-naked and lying sprawled across these hallowed stones, hmm?”

“I think you are are over-estimating what it takes to shock people. Relax!” He smiled up at Laurefindil in a most beseeching way. “Just this once?”

Laurefindil raised an eyebrow as Ethelë met his eyes. “You think I’m overcautious?”

“Yes. You should see what some of those grandchildren of Finwë get up to, and their exploits would make much more interesting scandals than mine anyway.”

Laurefindil was busy watching Ethelë’s hair spill across the white stone where he now lay upon the parapet, his body extended to full length, balanced on the broad, flat stones on which they sat. “Good” he said, before he could stop himself. 

Ethelë opened one grey-blue eye again. “Good? You think I am planning to cause a scandal then?”

Laurefindil grinned. “I wouldn’t put it past you.”

Ehtelë sat up, blinking in the light as their eyes met. There was a strange look in his face suddenly, keen and slightly vulnerable, which for some reason made Laurefindil’s heart race.  _As it always did when Ethelë was concerned_ , he realised with sudden clarity. “And what sort of scandal would it be? And how might I accomplish such…” Ethelë cast around for the right word, his eyes flickering over Laurefindil’s face even as his mouth twisted back into a grin, “such… infamy?”

“I have some ideas” said Laurefindil, slightly short of breath. Their faces were closer now, and something inside him that he had barely known was there was cheering in triumph, all of a sudden. He barely remembered how the conversation had begun, but Ethelë’s lips - a little cracked from being in the burning bright light all day, his skin was always so much paler than Laurefindil’s - kept drawing his eye in a most distracting way. 

“I think you had better show me.”

And in that moment, the fact that they sat in that once hallowed place, that anyone could be watching, seemed to make no difference. He let his hand - trembling slightly, but he didn’t care - slip behind Ethelë’s neck, beneath his heavy fall of dark hair, and kissed his lips, very gently. 

Ethelë took a moment to react, but then he was pulling Laurefindil close, kissing him back deeply before he broke away, his mouth slightly open as they stared at each other almost in surprise. 

For a horrible moment Laurefindil thought Ethelë might be angry at him, but then a broad grin started to spread across his friend’s face. “I’ve been waiting for you to do that for… well, for  _so_   _long_.”

Laurefindil, even as he struggled to absorb this, felt his own face break out in a smile, seemingly beyond his control. Ethelë came close and kissed him again. “Well” Laurefindil said, gesturing up to the tower behind them when they parted for another moment. “It’s as good a place for it as any.”


End file.
